


Of Memories and Moonlight

by Thestarlitrose



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19853377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestarlitrose/pseuds/Thestarlitrose
Summary: A series of unrelated Prompt Fills and Ficlets relating to Good Omens.





	1. Kenopsia

**Prompt: Kenopsia**

**For:xblackpaladin**

* * *

He stood alone in the ruins of Dunnottar Castle, it was well after closing and the moon lit the grounds, distant waves crashing against the cliff below. The empty room casts a sort of kenopsia over the rubble of the once great hall.

Where once stood opulence, now nothing but ruin remained.

It felt wrong, there should be crowds of people, foods and drink a plenty, it should be loud and warm.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to remember.

The first time he was in this room was back in the late 1500’s. He had been an advisor to James VI and as such had briefly visited the fortress various times during his tenure.

Then, the castle had been bustling, so many servants and guards and noblemen eager to see James and to please anyone who may give him access to the King.

It was during those years that the arrangement was still fresh and new, there was an edge of excitement with each meeting.

Always in passing until that night, planned but discreet. He had never allowed himself to let anything more happen that a pleasant conversation and perhaps dinner.

He could feel a change in the air. There was something happening, an electricity in the air that was nearly tangible and terrifying.

It was wrong but _God_ did it feel so very right.

He recalled the night well, how could he forget?

As an angel of the lord, he had been directed to work very closely with the king. They expected big things from him after all and needed someone to influence from the inside. A few minor miracles here and there and he soon became one of the king’s most trusted advisors.

James was itching for a hunting trip and the grounds of the castle were familiar to him as he’d often visited throughout his years.

Aziraphale had heard rumors of the whereabouts of Crowley, he hadn’t seen him in nearly 6 years and while he would never admit it, he’d missed the demon. Had longed for him in a way he wouldn’t acknowledge for many, many years.

He too apparently was an advisor to one of the noblemen living in Scotland, what he had not been prepared for was seeing the demon lounging across the furniture at the feast the first night of their arrival.

He had walked through the door and felt his presence almost immediately. The demon had looked up and nodded towards him from across the grand hall.

Something clenched deep within him, a longing and a feeling he wasn’t sure to name. Lust perhaps? Fear?

Something more he dare not name?

It would be nearly three days before the two would have the privacy to exchange more than a polite greeting and when the time did arise the meeting did not go as Aziraphale had planned.

They would be leaving in the morning, tonight was a grand celebration that called for spirits and plenty of them.

He’d possibly drank too much, but he was enjoying himself, allowing the alcohol to flow through his system and warm him from within.

He looked up over the glass in his hand to see the demon lazing in the corner of the room, his eyes on him.

He could feel it, it felt obscene and it thrilled him.

He excused himself from conversation and made his way to Crowley.

He smirked from his dark corner.

The demon always had an air about him, something that begged for you to give in to your desires, to let loose and just _feel._

It made his pants uncomfortably tight.

“Crowley… tempting anyone tonight?” he pursed his lips and crinkled his nose, giving off a look of disapproval.

The man across from him didn’t say anything, he just briefly lowered his glasses so he could very clearly glance at his pants before grinning in an almost feral manner.

One moment he was in total control of himself and the next he was being led through the winding halls, through a doorway and then shoved harshly against said closed door.

He really should have stop this, but his body was buzzing, and his alcohol addled brain could only seem to think about just how fucking good he tasted and how very good this felt.

His last coherent thought was how he wished they could have spoken, he’d so missed his company.

Hot hands and wet lips trailed scorching heat across his body and soon the only thing heard in the room were the soft moans of a demon and angel tangled hopelessly together.

In the morning when he awoke, his head was pounding, and he was pleasantly sore.

He quickly realized what he’d done and sat up, searching the room for Crowley.

He was gone, all that was left to prove he’d been there at all were the purple bruises on his hips and the dark blemishes on his neck and chest where lips and nails had once been.

Aziraphale had been so lost in thought, he hadn’t felt his presence until he grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Remembering our first time Angel?”

The angel sputtered, “I… well, if you must know, yes.” He turned to look at his lover, “If you must know, for so long I wondered if I had just dreamed it, you never mentioned it the next time we spoke, and I couldn’t be sure.” He looked down, embarrassed.

“Had I known you were dreaming about me angel it would have happened again many years before it did. You never said anything either, I just assumed you’d rather forget it ever happened,” he squeezed his hand.

It was a moment before the angel spoke again, “My dearest love, you left, I thought you regretted it, there were times of course that I’d hoped, wished it could have been more than a temptation on your part,” he smiled sadly, “I never would have dreamed, allowed myself to hope you really loved me or saw me more as a convenience until in the last century, much less seeking you out after that.”

The demon glanced around, then squeezed his lovers’ hand, looking him in the eye, “I was so scared, I had been so very drunk, and my courage was gone when I awoke to you in my arms.” He sighed, “Angel, you have meant the world to me for a very long time. My sun and my moon. I’d have been lost without you.”

Aziraphale leaned over to softly brush his lips across his, “shall we make more memories here tonight?” he took his hand and placed it on Crowley’s shoulder and began to hum, “Dance with me like we couldn’t then.”

And he did, the moonlight casting shadows of long departed dancers around the empty room.


	2. "I Love You" / "I Know."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill for xblackpaladin: “I love you.” / “I know.”

Things had been said, things meant to hurt and destroy.

It was their first fight in almost 150 years and it was their first as a couple.

Aziraphale made a remark about him being a demon, had made it sound as if he was the scum on the bottom of his shoe.

It had hurt.

For an angel he knew exactly the words to say to cut him down to nothing.

“You always say such horrible things,” he whispered it low, under his breath.

_I’m so much more than a demon, I thought you knew._

He stood up and began to walk away, he was too tired and a bit too drunk for this.

“Where are you going dear boy?” Aziraphale asked haughtily, “You _are_ a demon.”

Crowley turned around, eyes narrowed behind dark glasses, “yeah, I am, but I’m also your friend…” he stumbled a bit “your… well, I thought we were more. I guess it’s just easier to fuck someone who you don’t have to worry about dying and leaving you to this miserable existence.”

Aziraphale made a noise of discontent “all I said was that it was difficult to believe that a demon could love. You have to admit, it’s not normal for your kind”

Crowley snorted then, “You act as if I haven’t been in love with you for nearly 6000 years, but I’m a demon, I suppose I was mistaken.”

The look on Aziraphale’s face was one of shock, horror and pain.

He turned to leave, he was aching, his heart was breaking with each step he took.

Aziraphale grabbed his arm, “where are you going?” he asked desperately.

He looked confused, it was hard to break 6000 years of prejudice and old habits die hard, Crowley knew that, but the sting didn’t hurt any less.

“I’m going home angel, m'just tired.” He said with a broken smile

Aziraphale still had his hand on his arm, alarmed now, this had gone very wrong and he’d hurt him badly. “I love you,” he whispered.

Crowley smiled sadly, gently removing his hand from his arm, “I know.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving a stunned and heartbroken angel behind him.


	3. Hope and Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to the song "Blue and Yellow" by The Used.

There were times he missed his old life.

The one he had before.

Before everything went to shit for the first time.

There was love, and light and a memory of _blue eyes_ tucked just out of reach.

He’d been so naive then.

He had placed the stars in the sky, created galaxies and nebula.

He’d once had stardust at his fingertips…

Then he fell, and he never thought the darkness would end.

Memories of love and light and a shadow of blue eyes hidden somewhere deep in his mind.

He could never be sure how long he’d stayed, the pain and the loneliness devouring away at him.

Eternity stretched before him.

But one day he escaped, “ _go up there and make some trouble.”_

He’d helped build the garden and Earth.

Plant the trees and place the oceans.

He thought Earth would be his escape,

His peace.

It wasn’t. 

He was still in the darkness, just a different, lonelier version.

The starlight laughing at him, looking down from above.

He’d hated hell and the other demons, but somehow this was worse.

There were angels there of course, but none had acknowledged him thus far.

Finding the humans had been an easy task, he’d wondered, maybe, if they would keep him company.

Tempting them had been easy, he hadn’t expected it to go quite the way it did however.

The humans were banished, and he, the demon who was so very, very lost, found his light.

_“Well that went down like a lead balloon.”_

And the stars burst forth, giving light in his darkness.

A new sun formed before his eyes, landing deep within his heart.

Under the shelter of the wing of an Angel, He found hope.

The smell of rain, and electricity tingling under the careful watch of _blue eyes_ that were oh, so very familiar.

Years passed.

Those _blue eyes_ pulled him forward, reminded him of who he was and who he is and somehow, every single time those blue eyes met his, a star is born, a galaxy of hope and courage and love swirling deep within his heart.

He sometimes missed the old days,

Things would be much less complicated had things not happened as they did, that’s for certain.

But he loves the feel of Aziraphale’s palm against his, the sweetness of his laugh and the gentleness of his _blue eyes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me a Prompt at AziraphalesRareBooks.Tumblr.Com !


	4. The one where they were Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Fill for: S3dgy
> 
> Prompt: one of them is being silly—just a real goofball, honestly a straight-up FOOL, if you will—and the other one is just like, completely smitten.

He was always surprised at just how good she was with little Warlock, or, Locky as they had taken to calling him.

He was a spoiled child but a good child. He supposed that was their doing, indulging him in whatever he wanted and giving him their full attention when it was demanded. He was kind in the ways that were most important and he had high hopes for their plan going smoothly in the end.

His parents were often away, leaving his Nanny to care for the young child, even when he was still very small. During his early years, there wasn’t often a time when the boy was not with them.

Aziraphale watched from his garden shed as Crowley chased after the small boy. She caught up to the child, swinging him up into her arms where she blew raspberries on his tummy.

The two of them collapsed onto the ground as she tickled the wiggling child, the boy laughing loudly yelling “Nanny, Nanny, Stop!” as she giggled along with him.

His heart clenched and beat wildly in his chest. If he was human, he would have been concerned.

He had known for quite a number of years that he was in love with Crowley but seeing her with the small child, regardless of who that child would grow up to be, made him wish so very much that they were human.

He wondered if God had known how much he would come to love the child, he supposed she did. In the deepest parts of his heart, the words he was still too scared to say beat on, day after day. They were his family, he had found them, and he would be damned if he let anyone take them from him.

It was at that moment when the two spotted him standing by the window, Crowley waved to him, her hair messy and her smile wide. The boy, Warlock, had jumped up to pull him out into the back garden where he joined in on the fun.

Yes, he thought, they were his family, and he would keep them safe.

Nine years later, he stood with a boy, who was not Warlock, _thank goodness_ , and hoped with all his might that it would be enough to stop this. He knew, as soon as this was over, he was going to take Crowley into his arms, and tell him just how very much he meant to him.

Sixteen years later, he would comfort a heartbroken Warlock after one of many fights with his parents. He wished they would just love him for the sweet child he was, regardless of who he chose to love or who he grew up to be.

Nineteen Years later, he would be holding the papers signifying that his husband and he were officially the proud parents of a very normal 21-year-old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me a Prompt? 
> 
> AziraphalesRareBooks.Tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Warlock is sick and Nanny has a few tricks up her sleeves. 
> 
> Characters: Warlock Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth (featuring the hc that Crowley was Raphael), Aziraphale as Brother Francis (kinda)

She was tired, exhausted really. The Dowling family had left on vacation not a week earlier, leaving behind a very sick little boy.

The child whimpered in his sleep. He’d called for her earlier in the night, at 7 years old he still cared deeply for his Nanny and treated her more as his mother than he did his actual mom.

In his weakened state, he’d accidently called his nanny “mummy” as he shuffled closer to the woman sitting beside him on the bed.

The child’s fever was dangerously high and nothing the doctors had done seemed to be helping him. They’d refused to allow him to be admitted to hospital and there was only so much she could do without the aid of the occult. 

She promised herself if the time came, regardless of the consequence, she would perform the miracle to heal him.

It never failed, they’d been looking for her for so long. Anytime Gabriel received word that his long-lost brother had performed a healing, it wouldn’t be long he too would follow. 

The night went on, she was cuddled against the boy, whispering to him how brave he was and how smart he was. How very much she loved him, to please allow the fever to break.

She could feel it, soon he would be lost to the world if she didn’t do something.

Regretfully, she called for Aziraphale to come to his room.

“I need you to lie for me.” Was all she said.

The angel looked at the demon with a pained expression, “Can you heal him? The boy? I would try… but heaven would have my head if they knew I’d healed the son of Satan.”

“I know, Gabriel will come here tonight. I need you to tell him that Raphael asked to be left alone. That you saw him leave, but nothing more. Please angel.”

She knew there would be questions by the way Aziraphale was looking at her. She would answer them too, but now… now she needed to heal the child.

It started with a soft glow around the boy, his pale face shining in the light. she drew sigils in the air around the boy, murmuring to herself in a language long forgotten. Behind her dark lenses, the same heavenly glow seeped out.

She placed her hands on the child, and suddenly, the room was filled with golden light, warmth and love. And then, it was gone. She grasped the headboard to steady herself, it had been a while since she’d done that. 

“he should sleep until the afternoon” she gasped. “I need to leave, now.”

And she did.

He stood there, mouth agape, wondering what the hell just happened.

He felt static and then, Gabriel appeared.

“Where is he?” he punctuated each word.

Aziraphale blinked, blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “He’s gone. I… that was Raphael.”

“Yes Aziraphale, I know who it was. He’s been missing for, oh, 6000 years? You couldn’t stop him.”

He shook his head, “He said you’d come.”

At this Gabriel looked surprised, hurt. “He asked to be left alone. Then left.”

He growled, “If you see him again Aziraphale, you best make sure he sees me. Do you understand?”

The Principality nodded, still unsure of the night’s happenings.

Then Gabriel was gone.

The child’s color was returning. The chalky pale complexion was darkening to a healthy peach once more.

His breathing was no longer congested and wet.

Aziraphale gazed out the window, he’d often heard of Raphael’s healings. He’d just never imagined the most sought-after angel was in fact, a demon.

The demon he just happened to love.

The demon who, until an hour before, he thought didn’t remember anything about his past.

It made sense, Crowley had always been sensitive to the hurting of others. Time and time again he’d proved his loyalty and how deeply he cared for humanity.

The next morning, Nanny Ashtoreth returned to the Dowling’s home, dark circles under her eyes and an exhausted expression.

She cuddled the child close, knowing she would be willing to do whatever it took to keep the boy safe. Not because of who he was, but because of who he was to her.

Many years after the apocalypse, when Warlock was older and definitely not the antichrist, he would muse to himself how lucky he had been to have Nanny. He’d since learned that his Nanny, was Crowley and had taken to spending as much time with the demon as possible.

Aziraphale once asked why he kept it a secret, why a demon with half his grace couldn’t ascend back to heaven when he so clearly was missed.

“I chose to fall, but not all the way, Angel. I chose Humanity, I chose Earth and all her creatures. Gabriel and Michael would welcome me back with open arms, but I don’t miss them. I can perform my healings as I see fit… and well, I can be with you here.” He smiled shyly at the angel who blushed in return.

The demon once known as Raphael bent over and gently kissed the Principality on the lips. When he pulled away, a soft smile graced his lips.

“I think as you would say, it was ineffable.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt requests or to say hello, find me at AziraphalesRareBooks.Tumblr.Com


End file.
